The Moon -by David Berman
A web of sewer, pipe, and wire connects each house to the others.
In 206 a dog sleeps by the stove where a small gas leak causes him to have visions; visions that are rooted in nothing but gas.
Next door, a man who has decided to buy a car part by part excitedly unpacks a wheel and an ashtray.
He arranges them every which way. It’s really beginning to take shape.
Out the garage window he sees a group of ugly children enter the forest. Their mouths look like coin slots.
A neighbor plays keyboards in a local cover band. Preparing for an engagement at the high school prom,
they pack their equipment in silence.
Last night they played the Police Academy Ball and all the officers slow-danced with target range silhouettes.
This year the theme for the prom is the Tetragrammaton.
A yellow Corsair sails through the disco parking lot and swaying palms presage the lot of young libertines.
Inside the car a young lady wears a corsage of bullet-sized rodents. Her date, the handsome cornerback, stretches his talons over the molded steering wheel.
They park and walk into the lush starlit gardens behind the disco just as the band is striking up.
Their keen eyes and ears twitch. The other couples look beautiful tonight. They stroll around listening to the brilliant conversation. The passionate speeches.
Clouds drift across the silverware. There is red larkspur, blue gum, and ivy. A boy kneels before his date.
And the moon, I forgot to mention the moon.